


Not With a Bang, But With a Whimper

by sangha



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Depression, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, End!verse, M/M, Mention of torture, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 06:00:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1677368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sangha/pseuds/sangha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>End!Verse. A lot happened between 2009 and 2014. Dean Winchester is no longer the same man. Neither is Cas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not With a Bang, But With a Whimper

Dean couldn’t help but remember the last conversation he and Sam had had. The one where he told him they should never hunt together again. The one where he told him they were a danger to themselves and to the whole world. Even though his words had been harsh – and it had hurt him to say the words – he always assumed he and Sam would talk again. He still believed them hunting together was a bad idea, but he never believed these were the last words he would ever utter to his brother. 

“Did you hear what I said, Dean? He said yes.”

“I heard you,” Dean snapped. These words would never be erased from his mind. He wondered what led Sam to say yes. And if, had Dean been there, he could have done anything to stop it. He tried to comfort himself by telling himself that Sam had always been heading down this road, but he knew that was a lie. Sam was good, despite the mistakes he had made. Dean had come to terms with what Sam had done, but Sam would never know. He was Lucifer’s now. 

The world would be coming to an end pretty soon now that Lucifer had his true vessel and the angels had nothing. Dean felt nothing at that realization, except maybe relief. He did not know what would be waiting for him when he died, but nothing could be worse than this. Even Hell was better than knowing that his brother was okay with Lucifer riding around in his skin. 

Without saying anything else to the man who informed him that his brother was no longer his brother, Dean walked to his car and drove off. He didn’t realize where he was going until the familiar sight of Bobby’s house came into view. He hadn’t seen Bobby in quite a while; Bobby had made no secret of his disapproval when Dean pushed Sam away. Of course, Bobby’s doors were still wide open for both Sam and Dean but Dean knew Bobby would have handled the situation differently. None of that mattered now though.  
Dean went inside and Bobby immediately knew something was wrong. “What happened, boy?” 

“It’s Sam, Bobby.” Dean’s voice broke on Sam. “He said yes.” Saying it out loud made it so much more real. Dean felt something breaking inside him and he felt his legs giving way under him, but Bobby steadied him before he could fall. 

“How do you know?” Bobby asked. “Are you sure? I mean, why would Sam do that?” Bobby’s face betrayed his confusion and Dean knew that Bobby was hoping for some vague account, hearsay, something that could make them both believe that it was all a lie. 

“He was in Detroit. I don’t know what happened but he…I heard the devil set a trap for him. Spent days in the same room with Sammy, keeping him locked up there. I guess he finally convinced Sam to do it.” Dean couldn’t even cry. He just felt empty inside, as if someone had ripped out his heart and left a gaping hole there.

“Well, goddamn,” Bobby cursed. He wrapped Dean in a hug so tight Dean could barely breathe. He figured Bobby needed the comfort just as much as Dean did, but Dean couldn’t give it right now. He was too tired. 

When Bobby finally let go of Dean, both of them sat in silence for a long time. Dean was afraid to go to sleep; scared that when he would close his eyes, the images would be even worse than this reality. 

The worst part was knowing that Sam wasn’t truly gone. He was trapped in his own mind, bearing witness to everything Lucifer did. Dean shuddered at the thought of running into the devil and quickly tried to stuff that thought in a locked drawer in his mind. After a while Dean could hear soft snoring coming from Bobby’s chair. Dean couldn’t help but go over his memories of Sam. It hurt, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. He remembered that one Fourth of July when Dean had stolen some fireworks. He remembered Sam giving him the amulet; Sam’s face when Dean told him he wasn’t going to let anything happen to him; Sam confronting him about his stupid behavior after John’s death; Sam telling him he would have sold his soul for Dean; Sam telling him to cut the crap and admit that he doesn’t want to die; Sam, Sam, Sam. 

Dean had no idea how long he had been sitting there when Castiel showed up. He could hear the flapping of wings and for the first time since he sat down he had a reason to get up. “You happy now, asshole? Sam is gone. You angel douchebags got what they wanted.” A small voice inside his head told him it wasn’t fair to yell at Castiel, but the angel had been absent for so long and Dean couldn’t help but resent him for it. If Castiel hadn’t gone off to do God-knows-what, maybe things would be different. 

“Dean. I’m sorry.” That knocked all the fight out of Dean; he didn’t expect an apology. He didn’t know what Cas was apologizing for – if it was for the absence, the fact that Sam had said yes, the angels in general – but whatever it was, Dean took it. As soon as Castiel saw that Dean wasn’t going to hit him, he continued, “I’ve been trying to find you. I checked here a couple of times, but every time you weren’t here. When I asked Bobby about it, he said you hadn’t come by in a long time. I tried to find you the second I felt Lucifer take Sam, but this place seemed unlikely because of what Bobby told me.” 

“Wait…you felt Sam saying yes? Do you know what happened?” Dean wasn’t sure if he wanted to know exactly what happened, but he couldn’t not know. 

“Lucifer is still an angel. When an angel, especially one as powerful as Lucifer, finds his vessel, we all feel it. I don’t know the details but Lucifer kept Sam locked up for days, talking to him, trying to convince him. In the end, he succeeded.” Dean had the feeling Castiel did know more than this, but he wasn’t going to push it. If Cas had the tact not to inform Dean, he figured he probably didn’t want to know anyway. 

Dean just nodded. He wasn’t sure why, but he decided to hug Cas. At first, Cas seemed stunned by Dean’s arms wrapping around him, but after a few seconds, he could feel Cas’ arms doing the same. Bobby and Cas were all Dean had left now. He needed to touch Cas to make sure he was still there; he craved that contact. 

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said again, this time whispering it in Dean’s ear. Finally, Dean could feel tears sliding down his cheeks. They fell on Castiel’s trench coat. Dean stayed in that embrace for a long time, until he couldn’t cry anymore. The whole time Castiel held him tightly, saying nothing. 

\---

The next morning was worse. Somehow, Dean thought that it was all a dream even though he hadn’t slept at all. Realizing again that his brother was still gone and there was nothing he could do to bring him back tore at the empty hole where his heart used to be. 

“So what do we do now?” Bobby asked. 

Dean looked up, equal parts surprised and annoyed. “What the fuck do you mean, what do we do now? There is nothing to do. The world is going to end. Lucifer occupied his true vessel. Nobody can stop him.” Except Michael, Dean finished in his mind. But he couldn’t bring himself to say yes, even now. It wasn’t just that he didn’t want the angels to win; it was also that he was just tired. So what if the world ends? At least everyone will be rid of all this pain. 

“We have to keep fighting, son. We can’t just let the devil win.” Bobby sounded fierce, not understanding that Dean was tired of fighting. He was tired of saving everyone. Besides, he couldn’t even save his own brother. He was of no use. 

“It is highly unlikely that we will beat the devil,” Castiel chimed in. “But I think Bobby is right. We should save as many people as we can.” 

Dean sighed. When did he become surrounded by optimists? Didn’t they see there was no point in saving people? Even if they saved some now, they would die soon anyway because the devil was going to kill each and every one of them. Before he could protest, Bobby said, “I know we don’t stand much of a chance. But if we’re going down, we’re going down fighting, you understand me, Dean? We’re not giving up.” There was such fire in Bobby’s eyes that Dean found it impossible to say anything to the contrary. “I’m not letting you give up, Dean.”

Dean looked at Cas, only to find Bobby’s words reflected in Cas’ eyes. They would drag Dean along; they would fight to the end, together. 

\---

It wasn’t much, but it was all Dean had. His whole reason for living had been Sam and now he was forced to rearrange his life. But with Bobby and Cas by his side, it was at least somewhat bearable. There were still days when Dean just wanted to give up. It happened quite often that Dean played with the bullets that filled his gun, wondering what it would feel like if one of those bullets ripped through his brain. He would sometimes test the weight of his trusted gun against his temple, or inside his mouth, finding comfort in ending it all. Until one day, Cas walked in when Dean’s gun was at his temple. Castiel didn’t say anything; he just walked up to Dean, gently took the gun out of his hand and placed it on the table. As he took Dean’s face into his hands, he invaded Dean’s space and made him look into Cas’ eyes, saying, “we keep fighting.” Then he walked away, leaving Dean alone with his gun and his guilt. After that, he still entertained the thought of suicide occasionally, but every time he remembered Cas’ words and he would stop himself. 

For the first few months, they didn’t notice that much change. Demon activity went up, but that was about it. They wondered what the devil was doing; now that he had his vessel, he should be raising hell everywhere. They employed their old style, going from town to town to take down whatever evil thing was hiding there. 

Then, strange rumors started. Whole villages wiped off the map. The population gone without a single trace. The official sources didn’t know what to make of it. For once, hunters didn’t have a theory either. Because nobody was ever left behind, there were no eye witness accounts. All they ever found were abandoned cars and houses. 

Meanwhile, Castiel’s powers were starting to dwindle. He had to be careful about using them because he would be drained when he did. No more zapping people places, no more random appearing and disappearing. Castiel had to get used to getting around in cars and walking and Dean noticed it was making Castiel testy.

“Are you okay?” Dean asked when Castiel let out a sigh that would put an annoyed teenager to shame. 

“I’m frustrated. I can’t do the things I used to do and I don’t like getting in a car. It’s slow and confining,” Castiel whined. He even pouted a little.

Dean couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of that. “Now you know what us mere mortals have to go through our entire lives.” 

“I don’t envy you,” Castiel replied, completely seriously. After a moment of silence, Castiel said in a low voice, “I’m losing my brothers and sisters. I can feel them slipping away along with my grace.”

Dean winced. He couldn’t talk about losing siblings. He swallowed down the lump in his throat as hundreds of images of Sam crowded their way into Dean’s mind. “I’m sorry,” was all he could say. 

\---

Dean eventually decided to check out one of the towns whose population had vanished. Bobby had been skeptical, telling Dean they wouldn’t find anything other hunters hadn’t already told them, but Dean insisted. He had a vague suspicion ever since he heard the first reports and he wanted to know if he was right. He fervently hoped he wasn’t. 

As soon as they drove into town, Dean got out of the car to inspect every single detail of the town. He checked every wall, every surface big enough to carve a word in. Bobby and Cas trailed behind him, having no idea what Dean was looking for. Dean’s heart sank when he spotted a wooden door with the word “croatoan” carved in it. 

They never mentioned the Croatoan virus to anyone but Bobby, not wanting to reveal to anyone else that Sam was immune to the virus. As Dean’s fingertips ghosted over the word, vivid memories of River Grove came back to him. He had been willing to commit suicide – anything not to have to live without Sam. 

Bobby woke him up from his reverie by asking, “You think all of these towns were infected by the Croatoan virus?” 

“Sure seems that way. What else could it have been? People don’t just vanish,” Dean replied. When he saw Castiel’s puzzled face, he added, “Croatoan is a demonic virus. We came across it about five years ago. It makes people go all crazy; they become insanely strong and try to infect others with the virus by blood-to-blood contact. Somehow, it leaves no trace. People just end up vanishing. I guess it kills the infected after a while.”

“I see. It seems like something Lucifer would do. But why start in small towns?” Castiel wondered. 

“No idea. Test-drive maybe?” If this was indeed Lucifer’s doing, it would eventually spread to cities. It was the perfect weapon. All you had to do was infect one person and in no time, a whole town wiped itself off the map. It was certainly the quickest and most efficient way to get rid of humanity. 

\---

For the next six months, they heard more stories about towns vanishing. There was no pattern to it, though, so they could do nothing to stop it. The size of the towns that were struck by the virus became bigger and bigger and Bobby insisted on residing in cities for fear of inadvertently staying in the town next on the Croatoan list. 

Eventually, cities went down. New Orleans was one of the first cities to go. It all happened pretty quickly after that. The virus spread like wildfire. It had evolved into something new: the population didn’t die or vanish; instead they moved to other cities to spread the virus. Once this happened, Dean, Castiel and Bobby struggled to find a safe place to hide. The military tried to intervene, killing as many Croats as possible, but it wasn’t enough. At least they did quarantine the areas known as “Croatoan hot zones.” 

The areas that were hit by the virus first were now the safest place to go. As long as they stayed away from densely populated areas, they shouldn’t run into too much trouble. They found an abandoned camp in the middle of nowhere called Camp Chitaqua. For the first time in months, Dean, Castiel and Bobby could rest. They could stop running for a while. 

By some crazy luck, they found two mattresses. Bobby’s face when he saw Dean and Castiel hauling in the mattresses made Dean remember why he stopped putting that gun to his temple. Dean couldn’t imagine what it must have been like, all these months on the run and Bobby was stuck in that chair the whole time. They hadn’t been able to find anything resembling a bed in months and they all agreed that a wheelchair was still better than the hard ground. The prospect of sleeping on a mattress had Bobby breaking out in a smile Dean had never seen before. They carefully lifted Bobby out of the wheelchair and laid him down on the mattress. 

Dean put the other mattress in the next room. He knew Castiel was tired, which was a strange concept in itself. Angels don’t need sleep, but Castiel did now. He hadn’t asked Cas about it, but he knew what the implications were. “You go to sleep, Cas. I’ll keep watch for now.” The place seemed safe enough, but he didn’t want to take any chances. Without waiting for a response, he went back outside and kept his eyes peeled for any movement. 

Castiel followed him outside, though. “Cas, seriously, I know you’re not used to sleeping, but I can see the bags under your eyes. Go to sleep. I’ll be fine.” Dean tried not to sound too annoyed.

“I know. But you need sleep too. Nothing is going to happen, Dean. We haven’t seen a Croat anywhere for at least 30 miles. The area is abandoned. We can rest.” 

“Just because we didn’t see Croats doesn’t mean they’re not here,” Dean argued. He knew that Cas was right; there was no sign of activity anywhere in the vicinity, but he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened tonight because he decided to get some sleep. 

“Dean. Just come inside. We can finally sleep on a mattress. Let’s just not worry for one night, okay?” Castiel pleaded. He got up and dragged Dean with him. 

Dean wondered if he should point out that they had only found two mattresses. Castiel practically let himself fall down on the mattress, while Dean stood there, unsure of what to do. He decided he could sleep on the floor; he had done so for months, he could do it again. 

As he lay down on the wooden floor, he heard Cas sigh. “Dean. Honestly, I didn’t drag you inside so you could sleep on a wooden surface. There is a mattress here; you’re not going to sleep on the floor.” 

“Fine,” Dean grumbled. Cas moved over, making room for Dean. The mattress was big enough for the both of them, but they could not lie side by side without their bodies touching. Dean tried to ignore how strange it felt to go to sleep next to an angel.

“Is it weird?” Dean asked after a moment of silence.

“Is what weird?”

“Sleeping. Losing your grace.”

Castiel laughed softly. “The first time I fell asleep it scared me. I lost time for a while and I didn’t know what happened. But now, it’s actually somewhat comforting; to go away for a while.” Dean nodded even though he realized Cas probably wouldn’t be able to see him in the dark. Then Cas continued, “losing my grace, that’s another story. I miss Heaven. I miss my brothers and sisters. That connection is waning and I can’t do anything to stop it.” His voice trembled. “I don’t know how to be human.” 

Dean could feel Cas trembling beside him and he knew he was crying. Dean pulled him up so they were sitting and hugged him. He let Cas cry, the way Dean had cried all those months ago. He didn’t say a word, but it was enough. 

When the tears stopped coming, they lay down again in silence. Finally, Castiel broke that silence. “I saw you. When you wanted to say yes. That’s how I know my brothers and sisters are gone.”

Dean didn’t know how to respond to that. A few months ago, when the first cities were destroyed, Dean decided that this had gone on long enough. All this time, he was the only one who could’ve stopped it and he had selfishly put that off. In that moment, he decided it was time to stop Lucifer; to face his fears and say yes. He had gone off under the pretext of looking for food and shelter. He felt guilty for leaving Cas and Bobby but they would be okay without him. He just needed to fix this. 

“Michael. I say yes. Do you hear me? Yes!” He waited but nothing happened. He shouted yes for at least an hour, but Michael never showed. When he returned, finally admitting to himself that the angels didn’t need him anymore, his voice was hoarse and he had clearly been crying but neither Bobby nor Cas had commented on it.

“We’re losing this war, but we can’t give up. Don’t ever forget that,” Cas said. 

\---

Camp Chitaqua turned out to be perfect. No Croats ever showed up and Cas and Dean had even been able to find some other survivors who joined them at the camp. It started to feel like an actual community. 

One day, Bobby decided he wanted to go back to Sioux Falls to see if there was anything left. Dean knew there wouldn’t be, but he decided that if Bobby needed this, they would go. Bobby insisted that he and Cas stay behind though. “Someone needs to protect the camp,” he said. Dean reluctantly agreed, instead making sure that the most adequate people aside from himself and Cas would accompany Bobby. 

They never made it back. 

Dean had no idea what happened but when he didn’t hear from Bobby, he and Cas went up to Sioux Falls. There was a heavy feeling in his gut. Bobby should have returned by now. As he drove the Impala to Bobby’s house, the atmosphere in the car hang heavy in the air. Cas didn’t try to lighten the mood; instead, they drove in complete silence. 

Bobby wasn’t there, but the wheelchair with holes in the back said enough. Dean fell to his knees next to the chair. He couldn’t stand losing Bobby as well. Why couldn’t he just keep the only two people he had left? Dean felt a numbness settle over him; this numbness started to become familiar to him. He hadn’t realized that he had slowly – very slowly – been recovering from Sam’s death. But now, the rug was pulled from under him again. What little hope had been building in his chest was now gone again. 

Castiel lifted him from the spot where he fell and half-carried, half-dragged him back to the car. When it dawned on Castiel that Dean was in no position to drive, he made Dean go back inside, carefully avoiding the living room area with Bobby’s wheelchair. Instead, he went straight upstairs, still dragging Dean along. He found Bobby’s bedroom and he made Dean lie down on the bed. After taking off Dean’s shoes, Castiel joined Dean. 

Dean observed everything that was happening but he didn’t feel a part of it. It was as if he’d stepped out of his body. He felt Castiel beside him, enough space between them on the big bed but still close enough for Dean to know he was there. He felt Cas take his hand and rub soothing circles. A distant part of him recognized it as a too-intimate gesture; not something two male friends would do. But it felt good, knowing he had at least one person by his side. Half of what was left of his world had collapsed, but the other half was trying its damnedest to make something out of the ruins. 

At some point Cas realized Dean wasn’t going to sleep, so he got up, went into the bathroom and emerged with a bottle of pills. He made Dean sit up and made sure Dean swallowed the pills. Then, for good measure, Castiel took some pills as well. Dean didn’t want to go to sleep but he couldn’t find it in him to fight it, not now that he had taken the pills. 

\---

The next day, Dean didn’t feel much better but at least he could move without Cas dragging him everywhere. He was ashamed that Cas had had to treat him like a child; had even removed his boots for him, but he decided not to mention it. He was infinitely grateful that Cas had understood what he needed in that moment but there were no words to express that. He just hoped that Cas knew how much Dean appreciated it. 

They drove back to the camp, once again in silence. Dean didn’t need to tell anyone what happened; his face told the whole story. Some of the survivors decided to hold a mass for Bobby but Dean didn’t feel the need to attend. Any religious ritual was repulsive to him at this point. Castiel stayed by his side. 

Dean noticed that Castiel had taken the bottle of pills with him. He started using it more and more often. It worried Dean, but he didn’t think he had the right to call Cas on it. He had no idea what the former angel was going through and if the pills made it a little more bearable, why the hell not? It wasn’t any different from Dean’s alcohol use. 

Castiel also discovered the joys of sex not long after Bobby’s death. Dean saw various women going in and out of Cas’ cabin. Sometimes he’d even see a man there. He supposed gender didn’t make much of a difference to a genderless creature such as an angel. Sometimes, Castiel would forego the orgies and drugs and spend the night at Dean’s cabin. Sometimes they talked, but most of the time they sat there in silence. 

On one of those nights, Dean was just wearing his shorts and Castiel approached him, fitting his hand on the hand-shaped scar that was still very visible on Dean’s arm. “I never meant to leave a mark like this,” Castiel said.

Dean shrugged. It didn’t really matter to him either way.

“Something happened…in the pit.” They never mentioned Hell, just like they never mentioned Sam. Castiel was coming dangerously close to breaking that rule. “Your soul connected to my grace. I could see every thought you ever had in that moment.” Cas smiled. “I used to be able to read your mind at any given moment. I miss that.”

Dean frowned at hearing that Cas had been able to hear his every thought. He didn’t have that much to hide, but it was still weird, knowing that someone could just crawl into your mind like that. 

Before Dean could reply, Cas continued, “but sometimes I think I understand you better now than I ever did when I could hear your thoughts clear as a bell. I have no idea what you’re thinking right now, but I know you.” 

Dean swallowed thickly. The similarities between them hadn’t slipped by him. Both of them had to deal with absent fathers; both of them had to deal with the loss of siblings. And yet, those were the things they never talked about. The things they had in common were unspoken between them – they knew about them but they were not to be discussed. 

“Is any of your grace left?” Dean asked. He was painfully aware of Castiel’s hand on his scar and he could swear he felt something supernatural connecting.

“No.” Castiel saw Dean glance at his hand. “I think this is a result of your soul recognizing this touch. The connection runs deep. My grace is gone though. It’s empty, drained.” 

\---

People at the camp were really starting to look to Dean for answers. They wanted to know how to stop this apocalypse. Dean wanted to tell them he tried, that he could’ve stopped it but he didn’t and it was too late now, but the wiser part of his brain decided against it. He could let them have their little bit of hope.

One day, Chuck arrived at the camp. Dean was more than surprised to see him, wondering how on earth this twitchy man had survived this long and how he managed to find the camp. “Before the angels left, I had a vision. They showed me this camp. I’ve been looking for it ever since.” 

“Wow, Chuck. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. Glad you made it.” Dean had never been all that fond of Chuck, but seeing a familiar face was a huge comfort. 

\---

Not long after Chuck arrived, he approached Dean. “Dean, I need to talk to you for a second.”

“Shoot.” 

“I think the Colt can kill the devil,” Chuck blurted out. Dean knew that Chuck knew Sam had said yes and he was infinitely grateful that Chuck referred to him as the abstract “devil.”

“Yeah, that’s great, but we have no idea where the fuck that thing is and the earth is crawling with Croats in case you hadn’t noticed,” Dean said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. 

“Yes, I know, but I know what happened to the Colt after Bela stole it. It’s probably not in the same place anymore, but it’s a lead right?” 

Dea sighed. He didn’t want to go on a mission. Even with Chuck’s information, it would take them a very long time to actually track down the Colt, if they managed to do that at all. And he wasn’t even sure if the Colt would actually work on the devil. It was too risky; too many of these survivors would die in the process, even if they did succeed. “Chuck, I can’t go off and hunt down the Colt all the time. We need to run this camp and survive.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not going to survive very long if nobody takes down the devil, are we? We’ll all die in the end anyway, we might as well try and take down the devil,” Chuck said defiantly. Dean noticed how Chuck said “we” but what he meant was “you.” Chuck wasn’t a fighter. “Come on, Dean. It’ll give you something to do. Something to focus on.” 

It annoyed Dean that Chuck, this guy who barely even knew Dean, was telling him what to do. But he had to admit, the prospect of doing something other than sitting around camp all day was exciting. “I’ll look into it, okay? What do you have?” Dean wasn’t by any means sure he was actually going to go on this mission, but even just looking at the facts Chuck presented him with was a nice distraction. 

Chuck told him how Lilith had given the Colt to a demon named Crowley. Apparently, as soon as Lucifer took his true vessel, he managed to hunt this Crowley down and killed him. But, Chuck told him, Crowley was clever. He sold the gun to someone else and Chuck had seen who it was. Dean was impressed with the amount of information Chuck had. He thought it would be incredibly vague, but Chuck seemed to know quite a lot. Of course, when the angels left, Chuck stopped having visions, but up until that moment he sometimes had visions of the whereabouts of the Colt. This is what led him to believe that the angels were interested in the Colt; in other words, it must be a weapon they could use against the devil. 

Dean spent the rest of the day bent over old maps and tried to figure out what the best strategy would be. Cas walked in, unaware of Chuck’s revelation. “What’s all this?” Cas asked.

Dean could tell by his tone that he had been using drugs again. Somewhere along the line, Cas had gone from taking pills to help him sleep to occasional drug use during the day to high as a kite most of the time. Dean still felt it wasn’t his place to talk to Cas about it, though. Whatever it took to put one foot in front of the other. “I’m looking for the Colt.”  
Dean explained the whole story and Cas replied with a, “hmm interesting.” This was the first time Dean wished he could have old Cas back. He didn’t think Cas even got half the words he was saying right now. But Cas surprised him. “If you’re going on a mission, I’m coming with.” He said it with such finality that Dean would never argue; not that he wanted to protest anyway. 

\---

Over the course of the next months, Dean, Cas and a few others went on various missions. They kept looking for the Colt. If they were lucky, they found a demon who could give them information. The first time this happened was a month into their search. They brought the demon back to camp, where they started questioning him. Having a demon stuck in a devil’s trap felt strangely nostalgic. Dean’s mind started to wander off, memories of Sam invading, but he snapped out of it, knowing he needed to focus. 

After hours of questioning, the demon still hadn’t given a single piece of useful information. He did mention Sam a lot. How Sam was weak. How Sam was still alive in there with Lucifer and he could never escape. Dean had almost killed him but Cas stopped him. 

“We need him, Dean. For the first time, we have someone who can tell us something. We can’t mess it up now,” Cas said calmly. Dean didn’t know how Cas could be so focused when he knew Cas had used drugs the second they came back from the mission. 

“Yeah, fine,” Dean grumbled. “I know what to do. Get out. I’ll handle it.”

“Dean, you can’t kill him.”

“I won’t.”

Understanding dawned in Cas’ eyes. “Dean, no. You don’t have to do this. We can find another way to get information out of him,” he pleaded.

“And what’s that, huh? We’ve been trying for hours and he’s not giving an inch. I know how to make him talk.” Dean didn’t wait for Cas’ response; instead, he pushed him out the door, motioning for the others to follow. They didn’t argue with Dean.

He took a minute to mentally prepare for this. Memories of Alastair came flooding back. The pain of knowing he was the one who broke the first seal felt like a punch to the gut. He knew Sam had saved him that day, even though he was outraged over how Sam saved him. It took him a long time to realize that Sam did save him, even if the method was questionable. He wished he could go back and change what he did all those years ago. 

“Watcha doin’, princess?” the demon taunted. 

Before Dean turned around, he made sure to wipe all traces of emotion off his face. As he started cutting in the demon, employing the same methods he had used on Alastair, he could feel another part of him breaking. He was surprised there was a part of him left big enough to break. 

\---

Half an hour later, Dean left the room. Cas was the only one waiting outside. “Did it work?” Cas was unable to keep the anger out of his voice.

“He gave me a solid lead.”

“What happened to the vessel?” Cas asked, still angry.

“Didn’t make it,” Dean replied. He walked away before Cas could direct any more anger at him. He didn’t need this right now. He didn’t like torturing, but this was the only way.

Everyone wanted to find the Colt, but that was impossible if nobody wanted to do what needed to be done. And Dean was already broken anyway, so it didn’t matter if he did this.

\---

Cas hadn’t visited him in a long time, so when he heard the familiar knocking on his door, Dean was more than a little surprised. Dean was lying on his makeshift bed and he couldn’t be bothered to get up. 

“Are you okay?” Cas asked. Dean could tell he wanted a real answer.

He sighed. He hadn’t been okay in a long time. “What do you want me to say, Cas? My brother is gone, Bobby is gone, and I’m currently hunting down a gun so I can make sure that my brother will be dead good and proper.”

Castiel was quiet for a moment. “You know, when we asked you to interrogate Alastair, I meant it when I said that I would’ve given everything not to have you do that.”  
“Good for you,” Dean said sarcastically. He wasn’t in the mood for this “you’re too good for torture” speech. 

“I mean it, Dean. I saw into your soul when I dragged you out of hell. I know what it did to you.” Castiel tried to find Dean’s eyes but Dean kept staring at the ceiling.  
“I’m fine, Cas. I don’t need your worry. I’ve changed; I’m fine.” 

“Right.” Castiel got up and walked out of the cabin, slamming the door. Dean wondered absently what kind of drugs Cas was going to use this time to soothe his pain. 

\---

Torture became a regular part of Dean’s life. Every time they found a demon, Dean would use his special skills. Castiel argued the first few times, but after a while he just retreated to his cabin and buried himself in drugs. 

Dean changed. Castiel started to call him “our fearless leader.” Sometimes, when he looked in the mirror, he wouldn’t recognize his face anymore. His features were hard lines now and there was barely any trace of emotion left in them. 

He knew that people in the camp were starting to be afraid of him. They respected his authority, but where initially that respect came from his expertise, it was now born of fear. He indulged in random sex with the women of the camp. It never felt as good as it used to. He could never get any true satisfaction from it. 

Every time Dean thought they were getting closer to the Colt, they seemed to be getting further away. Truth be told, he didn’t even want to find the Colt. Finding it meant finding the devil, which meant finding Sam. He still couldn’t think of Sam without that hole in his chest widening even further. He knew that he could never pull the trigger. Finding the Colt was just something he did to keep his mind occupied; he never intended to actually find it. He suspected Cas knew this, but the others had no idea. Nobody but him, Cas and Chuck even knew that the devil’s vessel was Sam Winchester. 

After what felt like years of searching, they found a demon who was in the devil’s entourage. They had no idea who he was until Dean started torturing him and he realized how much this demon knew. Dean injected him with holy water, poured salt down his throat; he used all the things he had ever wanted to use on Alastair. And it worked.

“Fuck you,” the demon snarled. 

“You wish. Now tell me, where is the Colt? Come on, tell me, and I’ll end this real quick.”

He told Dean the Colt was in the hands of another demon close to Lucifer. That this demon’s sole job was to guard that gun.

Dean patted him on the shoulder. “Just one more thing: where is the devil going to be?” 

The demon didn’t let that information slide easily, but Dean knew how to make him hurt so much that he only desired death. After a certain amount of pain, loyalty flies out the window. All that is left is the wish for it to be over. Dean was all too familiar with that. 

Finally, he told Dean. He wasn’t any more excited about seeing Lucifer in Sam’s skin than he was a few years ago. But he was sick of it all. He was sick of seeing Cas do drugs, he was sick of people crying, he was sick of this empty hole inside him that had gotten bigger and bigger and threatened to swallow him whole. He wanted it to end, one way or another. 

\---

It took some preparations to go on that mission for the Colt. They rode out as soon as possible. Cas stayed behind this time. He OD’d on some drug – Dean didn’t even want to know what it was – and even though he was doing better now, Dean had ordered him to stay back. Cas knew better than to question him. 

It wasn’t an easy mission. They had to go in the middle of a Croat hot zone to find the demon. There were Croats everywhere. It was going to be tricky to get past them. They certainly couldn’t take the route Dean had intended them to take. They had to find a detour. Dean looked at the roofs over his head and decided they could probably jump from one rooftop to the other. It was definitely safer than the ground. 

Dean led the group into a building, hoping they wouldn’t find a bunch of Croats hiding on one of the upper levels. There were a few Croats on the second floor, but they took them out easily. Dean was used to it now. Slowly, they made their way to the top. Once there, they could tell the ceilings were completely Croat free. They jumped from building to building until they reached the one where the demon would be guarding the Colt. 

Dean had no idea if there would be more demons in the building or a bunch of Croats. They would find out soon enough. Dean went downstairs as quietly as he could. They reached the first floor without any trouble and relief washed over Dean. That relief was short-lived though because suddenly the Croats were everywhere. Dean dodged the Croat that approached him, but some of the others weren’t so lucky. Dean took out the Croat and then went to help the others. Years of this life had made Croats easy targets. 

Sometimes he forgot that many of the men with him weren’t soldiers. They just woke up one day and the world had gone crazy, so they were forced to learn how to fight. Years of training and expertise stood between them and Dean. 

Dean moved quickly to help out Yeager. He seemed to be having the most trouble, with three Croats ganging up on him. Dean crept up behind one of them and slit his throat. The second one turned around and Dean stabbed her. Yeager took out the third one. By the time Dean turned back around, all of the Croats were dead on the floor. He was glad none of them died in the attack but all hope of a quiet entrance was now lost. Surely the demon knew they were coming. 

Still, they had gotten this far, they might as well continue. They found the demon in the next room. He had clearly heard the fight and seemed unperturbed by the five men walking in, even though he was alone. 

Dean knew right then what the best tactic was. It wasn’t pretty, but it would work. He stayed behind the other men while they approached the demon. He waited for the demon to attack. It was the demon’s only option. He was surrounded by the five men, so he had to lash out in order to protect the Colt. Dean knew the demon would be faster than them; that was his only advantage in this situation. 

The demon approached Williams with such speed they barely even saw him move, but before they knew it, the demon had ripped out his heart. Before he could launch a second attack, the other three men jumped him, outraged at the demon for killing their friend. Dean saw the opening it created, darting quickly over to the safe. By this time, the other men had managed to pull a bag with a devil’s trap over the demon’s head. He was powerless now. 

Dean knew Sam would be able to crack the safe in no time, but he didn’t have Sam now. He had to do this by himself. He kept twisting the dial, hoping to hear the combination. It took him a long time; lacking the patience and care Sam had for these kinds of things. After what seemed like forever, he finally heard the safe opening. He could feel the eyes of the other men burning in his neck. The safe contained a box. He carefully took it out and opened it. There it was. The Colt. He hadn’t seen it in so long. He remembered killing Azazel with this gun. It had felt like such a victory at the time, even when he knew he was going to die within a year. He thought that finally, they could put everything behind them. Of course, he was wrong. Killing Azazel had just been the start. 

He caressed the inscription on the barrel. Non Timebo Mala. I shall fear no evil. It was appropriate that this was the gun that would kill his brother. He would fear no evil. He wouldn’t fear Lucifer. If Sam was still alive in there, shooting him would mean freeing him. It was the best he could do for Sammy. 

\---

On the way back, Dean started to notice Yeager’s behavior. A Croat must have infected him when they were ambushed. When they pulled up at the camp, Dean didn’t hesitate a moment. He shot Yeager first chance he got. The other men barely reacted. Dean didn’t know if it was because they trusted him completely or because they were afraid of him. Maybe it was both. 

\---

“So that’s it? That’s the Colt?” Risa asked, skepticism clear in her voice. 

“If anything can kill Lucifer, this is it,” Dean replied. 

“And how do we know where the devil is going to be?” 

“The demon we caught last week gave up the information. The devil is going to be here,” Dean said, while pointing at a map.

“Oh good, it’s right in the middle of a hot zone,” Castiel said. 

“Crawling with Croats, yeah. Are you saying my plan is reckless?” Dean started to get annoyed with people questioning him. They finally had an actual plan, and everyone started doubting him.

“If you don’t like reckless, I could use insouciant, maybe.” 

Great. Castiel was stoned again, but Dean needed him on this mission. “Are you coming?”

Castiel sighed. “Of course.” 

\---

Dean went back to his cabin. They had to go tonight. Dean decided he had to talk to Castiel one-on-one before they left, but he didn’t have to go looking for Cas. Before he even left his cabin, Cas was standing in the doorway. 

“So, you’re really going to do this,” Castiel said. 

“Yes. I want to leave by midnight. I want it to be over.” He didn’t specify what he wanted to be over, but he knew Castiel was on to him. They knew each other too well.  
“You don’t want to make it out of there,” he said. It wasn’t a question, so Dean didn’t bother denying it. 

They sat down on Dean’s bed, reverting to their usual silence. Dean had wanted to ask Castiel something for a long time, but he could never get himself to do it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the truth. Tonight was his last chance though. “I know you lied to me. About Sam,” he finally said. 

Castiel looked at Dean, clearly unsure how to respond.

“I know you know more about what happened when Sam said yes. I know you didn’t tell me to spare me that. But I want to know now.” Dean started to feel nauseous. Back then, Castiel had been fully angel and he had been tactful enough to understand that Dean wouldn’t want to hear this so it must have been pretty bad. But he needed to know. He needed to understand why his brother decided it was okay for Lucifer to wear him to the prom before he faced him. He wanted to understand Sam. It wasn’t much, but it was the last thing he could do for Sammy. Instead of judging him, he wanted to know what led him to this point. 

He heard Castiel sighing. He knew Cas wouldn’t deny him this, so he waited for Cas to speak. “When Lucifer trapped Sam, he tried to convince him for days on end. Sam wouldn’t budge because he believed in you. He believed that you were out there, looking for him, that you would save him. No matter what Lucifer said or did, he held onto that belief. He tortured him physically and mentally for days. Once Lucifer realized what kept Sam from saying yes, he…he told him you didn’t love him. He told him you had abandoned him and didn’t care for him anymore. He showed Sam how you lived; that you weren’t looking for him. Eventually, Sam couldn’t take it anymore. He said yes because he didn’t think he had anything left to live for anymore. The only way he was going to get out of there was to die. And the only way he could die was to say yes to Lucifer.” Castiel waited a few moments before risking a glance at Dean. 

Tears were streaming down his face. He hadn’t cried in years, but now he let all of it out. He was going to die anyway, so he couldn’t find it in himself to feel ashamed. Reminiscent of that day when Dean found out Sam said yes, Castiel hugged him. He let Dean cry into his shoulder, rubbing soothing circles on his back. They hadn’t been this intimate since Bobby died. After that, everything went down the crapper. Dean had become a shadow of the man he used to be and Cas had become a junkie. They grew apart after Bobby’s death. Right when they needed each other the most, they had reverted to empty solutions. 

Castiel pressed a soft kiss against the side of Dean’s neck. He stilled under the touch. “Shh, it’s okay,” Castiel whispered, going back to rubbing circles on Dean’s back.  
But the light touch had awakened something in Dean that had been slumbering for a long time. He looked up, looking into Castiel’s eyes before letting his gaze drop to his mouth. He was going to die tonight, either literally by his brother’s hands or metaphorically by killing his brother. Why not take this? He grabbed two fistfuls of Castiel’s shirt and kissed him, hard. 

Castiel pushed him away, looking shocked. He obviously didn’t expect Dean to kiss him. “Why now?” he asked.

“Please, just let me have this. Please,” Dean pleaded. It had been a long time since Dean last begged for something and he had certainly never begged for sex. But this was different. This was the last comfort he would ever feel. This was the last time he could feel human and he needed it. He needed to solidify the connection he had with Cas – the connection they made all those years ago in hell. 

Castiel nodded and leaned in to kiss Dean back. The kiss was messy; Dean begged for entrance with his tongue and Castiel willingly let him in. Castiel’s hands slid to Dean’s hips, settling there, while Dean’s hands disappeared under Cas’ shirt. Dean lay back, pulling Cas on top of him. He started taking off Cas’ shirt, eventually breaking the kiss so he could pull the shirt over Cas’ head. Without wasting any time, he took off his own shirt as well. 

Castiel rolled his hips against Dean’s and a moan escaped from his lips. Dean tried to fumble out of his boots without breaking the line of Castiel’s body on top of his but that proved impossible. Cas chuckled and moved off Dean to take off his boots, followed by his jeans and boxers. Cas took some time to rid himself of his own clothes and then joined Dean on the bed again. 

Dean wanted to tell Cas that he’d never done this before but then he remembered that Cas had been able to read his mind once; he didn’t need to tell him. Castiel’s hands traveled from Dean’s neck over his torso, briefly lingering on his hipbone. Castiel’s gaze stopped at Dean’s thigh, where his thigh holster was always safely secured. Over time, Dean had tightened the straps more and more until it left permanent bruises in his skin. He could feel his face flush under Castiel’s scrutinizing look. He was ready to defend himself if need be. The pain made him feel something. But defense wasn’t necessary. Castiel touched the bruised skin gingerly, then let his hand travel upwards again.  
“Are you sure?” Castiel asked? Dean just nodded in response. 

Castiel prepared Dean carefully, for which Dean was grateful. When Cas finally pushed in, Dean felt a burning pain at first. But Cas waited for him to relax again, and slowly began moving. The whole time they were silent and Dean was acutely aware of Castiel inside of him. This was what he had been missing all those years; a true connection with someone, someone who loved him. This was one of the last things he would feel, and he was okay with that. 

Dean could feel his orgasm building as Castiel kept moving. Finally, Cas whispered, “if you go, I go.” That was enough to throw Dean over the edge. Castiel followed almost immediately after. 

\---

As they drove into the city where the devil would be, Dean knew something was wrong. This place was supposed to be crawling with Croats, but it was completely abandoned. He wasn’t entirely surprised. He had anticipated the possibility of this being an ambush. They walked to the building where Lucifer was hiding. Destruction was all around them. It was a fitting place to die, Dean thought. 

“There. Second floor window. We go in there,” Dean told the group. He briefly locked eyes with Castiel. Cas’ expression said enough; he knew Dean was lying. Suddenly, it struck Dean what Castiel had told him mere hours before. “If you go, I go.” This was as much a suicide mission for Cas as it was for Dean, he realized with a shock. Cas never intended to make it out of here. He wanted to be lost in everlasting oblivion together with Dean. 

Dean felt a pang of remorse for leading Castiel down this path. He was an angel, a warrior of God. And now he was human, not even by choice, and addicted to drugs at that. He turned Cas into a shadow version of himself. He wondered if Castiel would be able to go to heaven once he died. 

After sharing one last look with Castiel, Dean told them to move. He made sure to stay behind his friends; the friends he was leading into an ambush. He saw the Croats approaching. Half a dozen of them surrounded Castiel. Dean didn’t want to stay; he didn’t want to watch his friend die, but he couldn’t turn away. Their relationship was screwed up; the fact that Dean was willing to sacrifice Cas even though he loved him proved that. He made himself watch as the consequences of his tactic played out before him. The Croats attacked and Castiel gave one last look in Dean’s direction, apparently knowing Dean was still watching. 

Finally, when there was nothing left to see, Dean quickly and quietly went around to the back of the building. His heart was heavy with the loss of Castiel, but he figured it would be over soon anyway. As he reached the back, he was surprised to find a garden still half-intact there. The figure in the middle of the garden was too familiar. Even though his back was turned to Dean, he still recognized Sam’s figure. But when the figures turned around, his face wasn’t Sam’s. The features were there, but the expressions shaping them had altered since the last time Dean saw Sam. For the thousandth time, Dean wondered if Sam was still in there. 

Lucifer looked at him curiously, watching the tears form in Dean’s eyes. “Sammy says hi,” he said.

There was no way to know if Lucifer was lying. He could easily have made it up, but the thought of Sammy being trapped in there…“You son of a bitch!” Dean’s voice trembled and he took a moment to steady himself. “Sammy, if you’re still in there, I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, he’s still in here, don’t worry. You know, he never forgave you for abandoning him. He’s telling me I should snap your neck.” He stepped closer to Dean, crowding his space. He wrinkled his nose. “Hmm I see you and Castiel finally sealed the deal. Good to know you had one last fuck before your brother kills you.” 

Dean hoped that Sam didn’t hold a grudge against him. He knew Sammy would never want to kill him; he knew with absolute certainty that that part was a lie. But the guilt he felt about leaving Sam all alone to face the devil resurfaced. He’d never been able to get over that, but he’d always tried – mostly unsuccessfully – to stow those thoughts away. He tried to focus on his purpose for facing all this guilt in the first place. Dean could feel the Colt in his jeans, but he didn’t have the strength to pull it out. Lucifer’s words weighed too heavily on him. 

“So, Dean, surely you didn’t just come all the way out here to die. I can tell you right now, if you want your brother back, that’s not going to happen. Sammy is trapped in here as long as I ride around in his skin. And I have to tell you, I like this skin. We feel whole together.” Lucifer’s tone was friendly to the point of being condescending. His words, on the other hand, cut through Dean, right to the core of him. Once again he was surprised how many pieces of him there were left to break. By now, he’d have thought every piece had been crumbled into dust. But watching the devil wear his brother’s face and not knowing if Sammy was in there screaming to get out broke every part of him. 

“Dean? Anything you want to say?” Still that condescending tone.

He took a few deep breaths before speaking. “Yeah, I have something to say. Sammy, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t here when this angel douchebag took you. I’m sorry I told you we were a danger to each other. We should’ve never stopped hunting together. I’m sorry.” He prayed that if Sam was in there, he was awake to hear this. And if Sam wasn’t in there anymore, he hoped he was watching Dean right now. He hoped his apology was enough. 

His hand slowly slid towards the Colt as he was talking. His whole body was trembling by this point but he had to do this. If Sammy was in there, the best he could do was killing him. It was the only solution. If he took the devil down with him, great, if not, at least he knew Sammy wouldn’t have to go on living trapped inside his own mind while Lucifer called all the shots. And Sammy wouldn’t be there when Lucifer killed him. It wouldn’t be Sam’s body anymore. 

Lucifer wasn’t paying much attention, apparently bored by Dean’s speech. Dean took the opportunity to raise the gun to point it at the devil’s head. Lucifer’s face turned into an ugly snarl right before Dean pulled the trigger and the bullet ripped through Lucifer; through Sam’s brain. 

Lucifer fell down and for a moment Dean thought he succeeded. Then he saw Sam’s body moving again and he didn’t know whether to be happy or not. He didn’t want to go on living without Sam, especially since he was the one who pulled the trigger. He couldn’t do it. The tears that had been forming since he saw Castiel die, finally spilled over, but he didn’t even notice it. He couldn’t see anything past pulling the trigger, his vision clouded with the final loss of Sammy. 

The end came swiftly. The second Lucifer was back on his feet he grabbed Dean and threw him on the ground. “You little piece of shit,” he said in that icy-calm voice. “Do you really think a human could bring me down?” 

The last thing Dean felt was a shoe pressed against his neck.

\---

_"Knock, knock, knocking on heaven’s door."_

The song was blaring from the Impala’s speakers. Dean opened his eyes to find himself in a dark field. There were fireworks everywhere. In the middle of the field, he saw a shape. As he approached it, he saw the familiar floppy hair and big smile and dimples that he hadn’t seen for so long. He sped up until he practically crashed into his little brother and held him there.

**Author's Note:**

> My [tumblr](http://www.hufflepuffbuckybarnes.tumblr.com)


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